Agent Fox Mulder (i_want_2) wrote in heroes_fiction, @ 2008-12-07 06:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | peter/sylar, rated: teen, slash |
Fic: Little Shop Of Horrors 1/1 Sylar/Peter
Title: Little Shop Of Horrors.
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Characters: Peter, Gabriel, Nathan, Angela, Chandra.
Words: 2452
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: slight Peter/Sylar
Rating: Adult
Series: Prequel to "Coming Home To Roses."
Warnings: Language
Summary: When Peter met Sylar.
Author's Note: To those whom I told I wouldn't do this: Surprise, I lied! You didn't think I would tell you my plans, did you? It's an advent calendar, the prizes are supposed to be unknown.
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March 29th, 2006 - Wednesday.
The outside of the shop looked like just any ordinary curiosity from the forties. There was even an honest-to-god neon sign hanging over the front door. Whatever Peter had been expecting when he stepped out of the cab, this wasn't it.
High end watch shops usually catered to such a posh crowd that they could afford to, well, they could afford to look like something more impressive. Not that this shop wouldn't stand out. Raising his eyebrows, Peter knew how much it would have stuck out in the places his family shopped.
After closing the cab door, Peter glanced at the two front windows. He was surprised not to find a pawn brokers sign. It was just as advertised, right down to the clocks in the front window.
Hopefully, it would have something that would impress Nathan.
"Here's hoping." Blowing in to his hands, he mentally cursed the fact that he had left his gloves at home. The world had looked so warm outside his window. Then again, he lived on the fourth floor, what the hell did he know?
Peter could kick himself. He realized he was still standing there like an idiot instead of going in. His ears burning, he chuckled to himself and reached out to pull the door open. It took him a second to place the sound of sleigh bells.
He felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his head from staring at them.
Inside, the shop was even more out of the past. From the solid wood floors, to the glass display cases. He hadn't seen that kinda glass on a door since his grandfather's study. He was pretty sure they didn't make it any more.
One thing that hit him as the door closed behind him, was the sound of ticking. It was every where and no where at the same time. For the amount of clocks visible, there was a surprising lack of mechanical noise. It was almost a completely in the background.
Peter supposed that if he had to work in this place, it was either that or madness. Quiet it was then.
Adjusting his jacket and Linus stocking cap, he glanced about the shop. So far, nothing really caught his attention. He could tell some of the watches were really old. The mantle clock on the shelf above the display case was mid-nineteenth century, definitely.
These were all pretty mundane for someone who ran an impressive watch shop. For here, it might probably be standard. One thing it had going for it, though, the shop felt comfortable.
'Gray's Clockworks', the sign had said. Probably been in the same family for over fifty years.
"Can I help you?"
Peter spun so fast he wobbled. When his eyes landed upon the source, he nearly screamed. The only thing that prevented him from releasing an unmanly squeak was the fact that all the breath had left his body.
Poking above the nearest display case, a creature straight out of a horror movie observed him. Then the man stood the rest of the way up and removed his eyeglasses. Cocking his head to the side, he stared at Peter with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't scare you, did I?"
"As a matter of fact, no." Trying to appear calm, Peter dragged a hand over his hair, pulling off his stocking cap. Realizing what he had been wearing, he quickly balled it up and stuffed in it in the pocket of his jacket. "You wear those monster show glasses all the time?"
The shop owner grinned. "Only when I'm fixing something." Setting said glasses aside, he reached in to the breast pocket of his sweater and pulled out a black rimmed pair. As he slipped them on, he licked his lips. "Is that better? I know it is for me."
Peter nodded. So long as the other guy didn't try to dissect him, or start talking about his mother, things would be cool. He gave a nervous chuckle as he forced himself to look away. "I need a watch."
"There are many here." His voice was soft spoken, with a low pitch. If he had been anywhere else, no one would have heard him.
That did nothing to settle Peter's nerves. This was fast getting out of hand and it was all his fault. Looking about the shop, he continued his scan for the perfect one. "I'm looking for something unique, something old. It's for my brother. His birthday is Friday, and I've been putting off getting him something. I just can't seem to settle on anything, you know?"
"I understand." The voice came from behind Peter.
It took all his will power not to jump. As it was, Peter's spine went rigid. "You got anything like that?"
"There is much I have that matches your desires." The watch maker's voice dropped lower as he circled round Peter. Coming to stand a foot away, he held out a hand to gesture further in the shop. "My most valuable pieces are deeper within."
Peter hesitated. He didn't know why. Looking up, he found the man staring at him over the rim of his glasses, observing him. Those warm, brown eyes unsettled him.
Swallowing, Peter caught himself mid action. What the hell was he doing? He was acting like this man had just offered him an apple and cackled like an old crone. Rolling his eyes, he felt his cheeks begin to heat up.
Now that he thought about it, Peter began to realize just how silly he had been behaving from the moment he stepped through the front door. More at ease, he straightened his posture and met the man's eyes directly. "My brother likes simple, but boldly drawn details."
The man frowned. "I think I have just the piece." When it seemed Peter wouldn't take the lead, the man turned and started off towards the back of the store.
Watching him go, Peter realized the back was actually a workshop. Also, that despite baggy sweaters and over sized clothes, the watch maker had a nice ass. Skin flaming for another reason, he cleared his throat and made to follow.
His footsteps quickly brought him to the sales counter, as made obvious by the cash register sitting in the corner.
The man was on the other side, fishing through an engraved wooden cabinet. The front panels slid to the side instead of opening up like doors. After picking through a stack of ten boxes, the man grabbed a silver embossed one. "Here we are."
Leaving the cabinet open, he turned to face Peter. He opened up the box, the hinge giving a tiny whine as it worked. "Mid-thirties. Ivory face with ebony inlaid numbers. The hands are carved silver to match the hand beaten casing. I assure you, the mechanics inside are solid gold, finely crafted and well treated."
Reaching up, Peter slid his fingers around the time piece. It was visually stunning, much better than any he had seen yet. Still, there was something off about it that made him think Nathan wouldn't quite approve. Releasing it, he shook his head. "It's beautiful, but not exactly it."
When he looked up, he found the man staring at him again. He had been expecting to see something like disapproval or annoyance.
The watch maker seemed almost entranced. His head was tilted, like he was listening to something. He blinked, then the expression was gone. Closing the box, he nodded. "Of course. Too simple." Turning back to the cabinet, he slid the box quickly back inside with the others. He paused. "Tell me, does your brother like puzzles?"
"No, he hates them." He had burned the last one Peter had tried to get him to do with him, in fact. The memory of all those pieces roasting in the fireplace made Peter chuckle. "He doesn't even read mystery novels, always skipped to the end."
"I thought so." Closing the cabinet, the man knelt down and scooted over to the next cabinet. Reaching in to his pocket, he pulled out a set of steel keys. After he found the right one, he stuck it in the lock. "This time, I promise it will be what your brother likes."
Peter was beginning to have his doubts, but he wasn't going to say that. The man just didn't have the stock. No one did, obviously. He was just going to have to accept that.
"Found it!" Pulling out a wooden box, the man had to tug on it three times to pry it out of the stack of them. As soon as the box was out, those on top dropped down with a crack. Standing, the man spun and held up the box for Peter to see. "You'll never doubt me again after this."
"Promise?" He had meant to be teasing, but the intense expression on the watch maker's face made Peter's heart speed up. "Let's see what you've got."
"Patience is a virtue few seem to be able to afford." Stroking the box, the man ran his thumb over the outer catch. He hissed when it released. "I assure you, some things are well worth the wait. Anticipation leading to greater rewards make them all that much sweeter when we achieve them."
Some how, Peter didn't think the man was speaking about the watches any more. He couldn't bring himself to look up at him, though. His face grew too hot to hide his thoughts. "Come on, already."
His laugh was breathy and deep, sending a shiver down Peter's spine. He knew the effect he was having on Peter and was clearly enjoying. "Ready?"
Swallowing, Peter's tongue felt too thick to speak, so he nodded instead.
The wooden box opened. Inside was a stunningly embossed pocket watch. The outer cover was covered in a sprawling natural scene of trees and a pond done in gold leaf over a silver case.
Peter reached up, almost hesitant. Catching the man's nod out of the corner of his eye, Peter cupped the watch between his hands. He gently squeezed the button on the case. The case popped open to expose an enamel painting inside of the same scene on the outside.
He let his eyes rove over the face. Through a thick, polished glass, he saw a white face with silver scrawling. The numbers were made of tiny tiles with black etching. Three smaller dials told the day, month, and phase of the moon, all in silver.
While he watched it, something clicked inside Peter's head. He instinctively knew this was the piece. "How much?"
"Two thousand, cash. An extra fifty if you wish it wrapped and delivered." His breath washed over Peter's cheeks. "I guarantee satisfactory service and a ten year limited warranty."
Entranced with the watch, Peter could only nod. "It's exquisite."
"Yes, you are." The words were whispered so low, that the watch maker barely even heard himself. Realizing he had said it aloud, though, he cleared his throat. "Shall I wrap it up for you?"
"Yeah." Peter nodded. It took a monumental effort, but he forced himself to release it. His fingers still tingled from just holding it. The craftsmanship on it was beyond divine. Still in a daze, he reached for his wallet. "How much was that?"
"Two thousand dollars, cash American. Another fifty if you want it delivered." The man seemed pleased with Peter's reaction. He was almost vibrating with pleasure as he closed the box. "Will that be all?"
"Yeah and yes." Nodding dumbly again, Peter sucked in a quick breath. After pulling out the wad of hundreds, he quickly counted them. He had to start over three times before he got the amount correct. "I've got the card for the address."
A warm hand wrapped around his holding the money. Looking up, Peter found those dark eyes watching him with more than a friendly intent. The expression on his face sent a cold chill through Peter.
His brow lowered, a smile slowly spread over the watch maker's face. "We'll have plenty of time look for it later."
Peter trembled. The only sound was his pulse pumping blood through his ears. "What's your name."
"Call me Sylar."
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March 31st, 2006 - Friday.
As he watched the inner door of the mansion open, Gabriel bounced on the balls of his feet. Smiling, he held up the silver wrapped box and a clipboard for the woman to see.
Her hair properly coifed, she had the air of power about her. Her expression made it clear she thought answering the door was beneath her. Still, she unlocked and opened the outer door. "Yes?"
"I have a package for Nathan Petrelli from one Peter Petrelli." Gabriel hefted the box again. "Can you get him so he can sign for it?"
"Nathan is busy. I am his mother, give it to me." She held out her hands for the pen and clipboard.
"I am sorry, ma'am, but this is a security issue. I am not allowed to give this to just anyone." Inside, Gabriel felt a twinge of victory as her lips thinned. He wanted to say something else, but settled on smiling. "If he is unavailable, I can come back."
"Ma, what is it? Has Peter gotten in some trouble again?" Appearing around the door, a taller man in an expensive suit put his hand on the woman's shoulder. He glanced to Gabriel and his expression changed from annoyed to bored. "Can we help you?"
"Package for you, sir." Gabriel stepped forward, clipboard and package ready. "From your brother."
Nathan took the clipboard and quickly scrawled his name with the attached pen. That done, he thrust it back to the Gabriel, and snatched the package. With it in hand, he pulled his mother back and slammed the outer door.
Gabriel wasn't surprised. He knew by now what kind of people he was dealing with. Putting the clipboard under his arm, he turned up his collar to the sleet and rain. Peter was much better off with him.
Whistling to himself, he strolled out through the iron gate and on to the sidewalk. Despite the nasty weather, he was having a pleasant day. He had a warm home, a good job, his health, and that dark lovely currently locked in his bedroom.
Things couldn't get any better.
Walking the curb, he hailed a cab. As he climbed inside, he shook the moisture from his clothes. "Down town..." Peering through the plexi divider, he saw the man's name on the license. "Down town, Mr. Suresh."
"Any particular place?" Chandra glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Seeing his passenger, he began to chuckle. "Lovely weather we are having, Mister?"
"Gray, Gabriel Gray."
THE END................................